


A Secret Harmony

by bittenfeld



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy Sex, M/M, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Mind Meld, PTSD Kirk, Rape Memories, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the mate-bond between Kirk and Spock gets tangled with that of their mirror counterparts during the inter-phase transfer mishap?<br/>Kirk is finally back on his own ship, out of the Mirror Kirk’s and Spock's reach.  And yet the trauma to his mind and body still overwhelms him, and he needs the comforting loving touch of his own Spock to heal him and restore their damaged bond.</p><p>Notes:  This is the fourth of a four-part series, each dealing with a different pairing</p><p>	#1 – Brightly as a King   (Mirror Kirk / Spock)<br/>#2 – Affections Dark as Erebus  (Mirror Kirk / Mirror Spock)<br/>#3 – My Soul Upon the Forfeit  (Kirk / Mirror Spock)<br/>#4 – A Secret Harmony  (Kirk / Spock)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the mate-bond between Kirk and Spock gets tangled with that of their mirror counterparts during the inter-phase transfer mishap?  
> Kirk and Spock make love, finally driving out the mirror demons forever, and healing their bond.
> 
> This is the fourth of a four-part series, each dealing with a different pairing
> 
> #1 – Brightly as a King (Mirror Kirk / Spock)  
> #2 – Affections Dark as Erebus (Mirror Kirk / Mirror Spock)  
> #3 – My Soul Upon the Forfeit (Kirk / Mirror Spock)  
> #4 – A Secret Harmony (Kirk / Spock)

Jim Kirk sat in Auxiliary Control alone.

McCoy wouldn’t let him go back on bridge duty today – nor did Kirk really want to sit in the center of that room right now, surrounded by his crew and their suppressed looks of concern for him. He’d lost control of his emotions again – how many times in the last two-and-a-half weeks? – and had launched into an uncalled-for tirade against Chekov this morning. The doctor had urged him to remain in Sickbay for awhile to rest and give himself time to really heal from the torments which still scourged him. But Kirk hadn't felt comfortable there either, even under the sympathetic ministrations of his physician friend, and had left as soon as McCoy would release him. McCoy had then suggested that Kirk at least go to his cabin and take a nap, but that suggestion had disturbed Kirk even more as he had recalled another similar captain’s-quarters where he had been imprisoned two-and-a-half weeks before, and a horribly familiar bed upon which he had been bound and beaten and raped.

And so he sat at the command console in Auxiliary Control in the bowels of his ship by himself, trying to still the rush of nightmare thoughts in his brain and the continuous throbbing in his right temple and the lingering ache in his lower back which even yet resisted McCoy’s pain-killing potions.

From here he could monitor complete bridge activity via intercom and view-screens and computer, as it ran smoothly beneath Spock's capable hands. And sitting in such close proximity to the primary engines, he could feel their heavy thrum in the deck beneath his feet – and indeed in the very air surrounding him – the healthy sound of normal operation, as they propelled the Enterprise deeper into this quadrant of space toward its ultimate rendezvous with its sister ship, the Lexington, two days hence.

Kirk wondered if he himself would be operating normally by then.

The door hissed open, and Montgomery Scott entered, carrying a tray from Engineering mess-hall down the corridor. This was his second trip to check on his superior officer this afternoon.

“I brought you a bite of supper,” the Scotsman greeted, setting the tray on a bare counter-top near the console. “Ye havna’ eaten all day. Doctor McCoy says to get some food into you, so I had the processors whip up a prime-rib dinner… plus I brought a pint of my best scotch.” He poured a two glassfuls, and handed one to Kirk.

Kirk managed a little smile despite the pain in his temple. “Thanks, Scotty. I’m not hungry right now, but I appreciate the offer.”

The engineer cocked his head. “The doctor said I was to make sure you ate something.”

Compliantly Kirk took a bite, chewed it, and swallowed it. “There,” he pronounced with a smile, “you can report back to Doctor McCoy that you fulfilled his orders. I suppose the doctor told you to nursemaid me today?”

”Aye, he did. But I would have anyway. Ye underwent a grave shock two weeks ago… over there… and ye havna’ recovered yet. Ye shouldna’ be alone just yet.”

Kirk followed the bite of food with a swallow of the extremely smooth whiskey. “Well, shift will be over in less than an hour, and then I guess Spock will nursemaid me… I’m sorry, Scotty, I’m not very good company today.”

“I wouldna’ expect ye to be.” Scott tipped his own glass. And then a dark frown creased the Scotsman’s visage. “I’m sorry we ever crossed paths with those divvils from that alternate universe eight months ago. They have caused a great deal of trouble… to you most of all. I ken I’ll ne’er forget the few hours ye and I and McCoy and Uhura spent over there. I still hae nightmares about that divvil-Spock myself.”

Kirk felt the blood drain from his face in response to Scott’s comment, felt his lips go cold. “Well, hopefully we’ll never cross paths again.” Setting his half-full glass back on the tray, he apologized, “Pleas excuse me, Scotty. I still can’t talk about it very much… and I’d really prefer to be alone right now. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

Scott left his glass beside Kirk’s. “I understand.” With a touch to Kirk’s shoulder, he headed back for the door. “But if ye need anything, Captain, I’m right down the hallway.”

“I know, Scotty, thanks.”

But as soon as the door slid shut behind Scott, and Kirk was alone again, he got up and took the food tray over to the disposal chute. The smell of the dinner – even though it was his favorite – made his stomach squirm queasily. The liquor though, he saved – maybe he’d drink himself into a dreamless sleep tonight.

Two weeks and four days, and he still remembered with cold clarity everything that that other Kirk and Spock and subjected him to over there, and everything that had happened when he finally got back home. When that mirror-universe Spock had returned him to his own universe, Kirk had solidified standing in his own transporter chamber; then promptly dropped to his knees and vomited up everything in his stomach in cold shivering shock. The transporter tech, Lieutenant Kyle, had immediately called for assistance, then did what he could for his captain until a medic team arrived with a stretcher and McCoy and Spock in close pursuit. All during the rush back to Sickbay, Kirk had pleaded with McCoy not to examine him, not to touch him; and McCoy had soothed him and talked to him, and then injected him with some kind of knock-out dope. And the next thing Kirk had known was waking up in Sickbay a couple of hours later with his injuries re-treated and re-bandaged. At least the doctor had spared him the humiliation of being conscious during the exam, and Kirk had admittedly felt better knowing that his own McCoy had re-assessed the work of the other.

And now a comforting warmth swirled and settled in Kirk’s mind… Spock!... soothing along the trace of their bond-link, just before the intercom on the console buzzed. Kirk pressed the transceiver switch, and the Vulcan’s welcome countenance faced him on the view-screen.

“Yes, Spock,” Kirk acknowledged, and felt the tender warmth gloss over the chronic pain in his temple and ease it.

“Captain,” Spock announced, expressionless face a contrariety to the deeply empathetic mind-touch assuaging the raw abrasions of Kirk’s mind and body, “at the end of shift, I shall retire to my quarters. Would you care to meet me there?”

Beneath his bondmate’s psychical healing touch, Kirk relaxed. “Sure, Spock, I’ll be there.”

“Then I shall see you in thirty-two minutes.”

“All right.” Kirk switched off the com, then decided to shut down the whole console as well. He’d go up to their shared cabins now and wait for Spock there, lie down for awhile and maybe take a nap just like McCoy had been urging all day.

Even walking down the corridor to the turbo-lift and then to their quarters took painful effort. Some days the memories and phantom pains waxed stronger than others, and today was one of those days. His mind re-played every violation of his private parts, from his twin’s callous torture, pressing that horrible little device up hard against his testicles while demanding helpless humiliating please for mercy from Kirk’s own lips – Kirk’s throat clenched at the memory of shame followed by cruel pain no matter what he begged or offered of himself – to that other Spock's initiated rape, heavy Vulcan organ ripping his anus, filling his insides so tight, so tight; to the more-than-intimate medical care forced upon him by that doctor with McCoy’s face.

A nightmare no man should have to bear: demons wearing the visages of a bosom friend, of a love-mate… of one’s own self. And Kirk knew that the pain he was experiencing right now was much deeper than mere physical pain alone.

He entered his cabin, stripping off his clothes as quickly as possible. He meant to stay no longer than the time necessary to change clothes – he hadn't slept here since the incident – but something drew him into the bed-chamber; and as he stood there in his own cabin, on his own ship, he shuddered with another chill as though something – some _one_ – stood where he stood, lived where he lived, a doppelgänger occupying the same space, the same time, with only a slight variation in sub-atomic orientation separating them. And he stared at his own bed, and remembered manacles locking his hands over his head and shackles binding his ankles together, and absently he touched the fresh scars on his wrists. And again a shiver danced along his skin, regardless of the temperate warmth of the room.

Abruptly he turned to his closet, took out a dressing-gown, and slipped it on over his briefs, then passed through their common bathroom into Spock's quarters.

The slightly higher warmth of the Vulcan’s private space breathed against him; the soft melody of Vulcan lyre and flute and temple bells drifted from hidden speakers, soothing away nervous shudders; and sweet-spice incense wafted into his lungs, calming his mind. The fragrance was Spock, the scent subtly tingeing the man’s skin, hair, clothing, so that Kirk always knew when his bondmate stood near, even if not for the light ever-present mind-link.

Drawing back the bed-covers, Kirk slipped in between the sheets, still wearing his robe. The thought of being naked disturbed him now, the helplessness and degradation which it signified, the vulnerability and humiliation he had experienced while tied on that other bed, staring up at such acutely familiar hazel eyes, smiling cruelly down at him, familiar hands touching him, hurting him, abusing him…

– _stop it_! he commanded his mind… _stop it_ –

… like a dreamer abruptly awakened, still hovering on the edge of a nightmare, he could feel the phantom hands on him, the hot pain of a belt cracking across his face, across his buttocks. Sharply his breath caught in a half-sob, face twisted in remembered anguish. He jerked his head to dispel the grotesqueries, sever the tormenting memory loop.

In the dim red warmth of the Vulcan bed-chamber, Kirk watched shadows thrown by the flame-pot dance about the curtained walls and glimmer off polished weapon blades crossed behind the head of the bed; listened to the gentle echo of temple bells and lyre. Right now he felt more comfortable here in this exotic alien environment than he did in his own quarters.

… until another dream-memory, eight-months’ buried, resurfaced – that slight skewing of sub-atomic orientation again – and he smelled another incense, heavy spice, and he sweated in the heat of another dim red bed-chamber, gasping in the cloying sticky air, pressed to the bed beneath Vulcan weight, while a bearded face took his face, a hot demanding tongue presumed to enter him and possess his mouth, and long bony fingers took his mind to enter and possess it as well, discover his mate-bond with his own Spock and examine it. And Kirk remembered submitting to the elemental sensuality, finally allowing that doppelgänger of his own mate into his mind and body, ultimately accepting that Other One’s dark essence into his psyche and hot emission into his bowels.

Again, forcibly, he jerked himself out of the quasi-reality, and back into present time and space. Beneath the robe, sweat slicked his skin as he lay there trying to calm his racing pulse and quivering respirations; and he could feel a warm wet seminal bubble ooze from the tip of his half-aroused penis and soak into the material of his briefs. And the realization that he was responding to the memory of that dark twin shamed him even more.

Ever since the rape two weeks ago, he’d been impotent. A week after the incident, at Kirk’s own request, he and Spock had attempted intercourse again, with disastrous results. Everything about Spock had reminded Kirk of the other Vulcan – even their mate-link could not ease the sensations of being handled by his tormentor once again – and the attempt had left him impotent and shaking with fear. If anything, the link had made the situation worse by allowing all his thoughts, all his feelings, to bleed over into Spock's mind, rendering him incapable and frustrated as well, and saddened for Kirk’s sake. Since then, they had tried twice more, with the same results.

And now, to get it up involuntarily simply at the thought of the other, was the worst betrayal he could have expressed toward his own Spock… dear god, would they ever be free of their two mirror images?... would the bonds ever disentangle?

Footsteps echoed on the deck outside the cabin, then the door slid open and Spock entered. Without pausing in the office / sitting room, he went directly into the bed area and stood by the side of the bunk.

“Spock,” Kirk managed from beneath the oppressive weight of guilt and shame.

“It is all right, Jim,” the deep voice reassured, and the Vulcan reached out a warm hand to take a cold human one, easily reading the bitter thoughts spilling from the human’s mind. “Do not punish yourself. Your body betrays neither of us. Do not allow the thought of our counterparts to disturb you. You are home now. You are no longer under their influence.”

Kirk’s hand returned the supportive pressure. “Home,” he echoed. “But they’re right here with us, aren’t they? I keep having this feeling like I can almost see them out of the corner of my eye, like they can see me even if I can’t see them. And they have the technology to kidnap me any time they feel like it, take me away from here… or kidnap you… take you away from me…” Kirk’s fingers squeezed tighter, then he released his grasp and patted the empty half of the bed. “Lie down with me, Spock.”

Compliantly Spock skirted the foot of the bed to the vacant side, pulled off his boots and socks an blue velour over-shirt, then slid beneath the covers, still wearing his uniform trousers and black T-shirt. For the past two-and-a-half weeks they had still been sleeping together, but clothed.

The flicker from the flame-pot radiated the only light in the room. In the warmth under the sheet, they renewed their hand-clasp, and Spock slid closer to touch alongside the tense human in bed with him.

“I feel like hell,” Kirk muttered.

“I know.” Through their grasping hands, Spock urged gentle support. “Do you want me to call McCoy?”

Kirk’s head rolled on the pillow. “No. I don’t want McCoy. I don’t want anyone.”

“Would you prefer I leave?”

“No, I didn’t mean you.” Kirk just lay there, eyes closed. “God, I feel like shit. I feel like I just want to crawl away somewhere and hide.”

“That is an understandable reaction.”

“Not for a starship captain.”

Spock's free hand touched Kirk’s shoulder to increase their contact, yet not touch too intimately so as to disturb. “Jim, you were a victim of rape – and not just physically. You underwent a transdimensional shift. You have twice been held a prisoner aboard that ship. Your reactions are not unreasonable. It will take time to recover.”

“A starship captain doesn’t have that luxury. I’ve been a sonofabitch to work around these past two weeks, haven’t I? I nearly fried Chekov this morning… Uhura yesterday.”

“The crew understands.”

“That’s not good enough. I’ve got to get over this. It’s not fair to them… or you… I’m sorry, Spock, I know I’ve been a pretty poor bed-partner lately too.”

“That is the least of my concerns, Jim.” Sympathetically Spock's fingers explored the still-visible discolorations on Kirk’s face. “Your continued convalescence is all I desire. Our sexual relationship will gradually heal of its own accord.”

Again Kirk’s head shifted on the pillow. “Those two sure loused things up for us, didn’t they? Every time I’m in bed with you, it still feels like they’re here too. What the hell happened, Spock? Are we somehow irrevocably connected them through the bonds?”

Spock gathered his partner in an embrace. “Shifting between the dimensions attenuated our respective bonds. Eight months ago, when our counterparts and we discovered each other, our mate-bonds accidentally interfaced. Plus, the fact that the other Spock and I were beginning to enter pon-farr, only exacerbated the situation. For some reason, they were more strongly drawn to us than we to them, but we too sensed the resonance. I knew that my counterpart was… mating with you… I could feel that he was hurting you, although I could not directly access either of your minds until I… physically joined with your counterpart… and completed the four-way union.”

The pain in Spock's voice at the recollection of that past memory stung Kirk’s heart, the shame that they both had experienced when coerced into rough intercourse with their twins from that other dimension, that dark universe. Shame and guilt, as though they as victims were responsible for the ugly situation.

Kirk settled deeper into his mate’s embrace. “Both times when the transport went awry, I could feel our link strain… like threads breaking, filaments snapping… inside my head… it felt like I was losing you; and then he was in my head too, and I couldn’t get rid of him… I wish to god we could straighten this whole thing out right now… I can’t stand it anymore, that god-awful sensation like an out-of-phase ghost reflection, like a disharmony I can feel even if I can’t hear it.”

“Perhaps we can,” the deep quiet voice suggested, and gentle arms squeezed protectively. “If you would allow me to put us both into a sufficiently deep trance, I can repair the damage done to our bond, and we can re-seal our union free of their interference.”

“Anything to set it right again… get those goddamn bastards out of our lives and get us out of theirs. Can we do it right here, right now?”

“Yes.”

Kirk gathered his slightly tattered command-presence about his bruised and violated self. “Then let’s get on with it.” He shifted, stretching out to lie straight, face-up beside his partner.

  
 _to be continued_ …

 

_“My heart, which by a secret harmony_

_Still moves with thine, joined in connection sweet.”_

_– John Milton (1608-1674)_

_“Paradise Lost” X 358-359_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk and Spock make love, finally driving the mirror demons from their lives forever, and renewing their bond of love.

Spock remained embracing Kirk, pressing lightly all along the length of his human mate. “Relax, Jim,” he coaxed, “relax your body and your mind if you can. If you would like to hold me as I am holding you, please do so.”

Tentatively Kirk laid an arm over both their bodies, but his reluctance flashed through the link, reluctance and memories of other Vulcan hands forcing him into kneeling submission and spreading his buttocks.

Spock cringed noticeably at the acutely sharp picture; and anger at his counterpart, that the man would callously appropriate a mate not his own, swelled into the swirl of emotions before Spock could interrupt it. Deliberately Kirk overrode his own hesitations and slid his arms around his bondmate, to reciprocate some of the comfort which Spock had been offering him here in this warm bed.

“Jim,” Spock whispered, face resting against his lover’s, “I would never dishonor our bond. I do not wish for my touch to distress you.”

“It isn’t you, it’s him,” Kirk admitted. “And the sooner we clear this up, the better. I don’t want to feel him ever time you touch me.”

“Part of this procedure may be slightly disturbing as we reach that fraction of the bond which has interfaced with theirs. Try to hold in mind that you are safe aboard our own Enterprise – they cannot harm you any longer. However, if at any time you choose to end the sequence, just tell me, and I will draw us out of it.”

“If I can’t handle it, I’ll let you know.” But with Spock's support beneath him, Kirk did feel like he could face those demons and exorcise them once and for all. “C’mon, Spock, I’m ready.”

The two men embraced in the dim warmth. Kirk could feel Spock's lips kiss his forehead lightly, warm breath against his skin. In an assurance of mental succor and comfort, Spock's hands gripped and fondly rubbed Kirk’s upper arms, his shoulders, his back.

“Now, clear your mind,” Spock instructed quietly. “Focus on a peaceful calming thought. If other thoughts intrude, gently draw your attention back to your focus.”

Kirk did as he was bade; if he could command others, he could certainly command himself and authoritarianly refuse to entertain the nightmare thoughts any longer. The needling torments receded little by little to the edges of his concentration, yet hovering eagerly, anticipating breaks in his will-power to slide back in and torture him once more, but each time he worked to push them back again. In the four years that he and Spock had been bonded, Spock had taught him some mind-control techniques; and now as they prepared for this reparation of the frayed strands of their bond-link, Kirk could sense Spock's powerful psychic undercurrent as well, assisting his mental focus.

But then, as one hand slipped to the junction of Kirk’s neck and left shoulder, Kirk snapped instantly rigid and alert once again, acutely aware of Vulcan hands, and recalling the other Spock threatening him with unconsciousness if he didn’t voluntarily submit to debasement.

Immediately the fingers moved to touch his face, caress his bruised cheek. “I did not mean to alarm you,” his bondmate apologized quickly. “I do not intend to render you unconscious or incapacitated. I merely wish to relieve your physical tension. Please do not fear me.”

Kirk shook his head, half-ashamed of his reflex reaction. “I’m sorry, Spock. Once we get him out of my mind, I won’t jump anymore. You know I trust you with my life.” Again Kirk willed himself to stretch out beside his mate and stop trembling. “Go ahead,” he allowed. “Do whatever you need to do.”

As Spock touched him again, non-threatening, caressing, fingertips exploring human features, Kirk felt warmth seep into his tight facial muscles, then ease down his neck and shoulder and torso. He let his mind settle, drift, float. Spock's mind was there too, feathering about the edges of Kirk’s consciousness, buoying up the human’s spirits, holding the dark thoughts of a dark incubus at bay. And this time Kirk didn’t even flinch when Vulcan fingers found the cervical nerve branch and pressed gently, just so, eliciting a faint tingle all along the surface of Kirk’s skin. Kirk allowed himself to experience the tingly wash of sensation and the loose limpness of his muscles. True to his promise, Spock did not induce unconsciousness or paralysis. Kirk still had muscle tone, if he had wanted to move for any reason. But he didn’t want to.

All he wanted to do was lie there in the soothing warmth of the Vulcan bed-chamber and let his mind wander, somewhere far away from thoughts of an alien Enterprise and a vicious jealous hateful twin… and a bearded Spock who desired him and touched him, and used him…

The attentive benevolence of his own Spock flooded him once again, offering to his mind a cool peaceful setting, a pleasant memory – an evergreen forest he remembered from Earth, cypress and juniper, somewhere he and Spock had vacationed together years before. The memory soothed him as he half-remembered, half-fantasized it. Willingly now he found himself losing consciousness and shifting into an altered mental state.

… _Spock_ … he heard himself speak aloud as he stood in the imaginary forest, though he knew he had only thought it into the link.

… _I am here, Jim_ … the soothing mind-voice of his mate reiterated the supportive thought… _Allow me to guide this healing_ … _there is no hurry_ … _relax, Jim_ …

In his mind’s eye, Kirk could see Spock with him in this dark cool forest. It was raining, and the rain dampened the thin white robes they wore – they had made love in the rain there on that long-ago vacation, Kirk recalled – Spock was bringing to mind one of their most pleasant shared memories.

They lay on a ground sheet, Kirk on his back, and Spock on his side propped up on an elbow looking down at him. The haunting music from Spock's quarters permeated into the trance-vision; here in the dark forest they could still hear the mystic chiming of temple bells and the gentle meanderings of flute and lyre.

The dream-Spock touched his bruised cheek. Kirk felt the soothing warmth of the large strong hand.

… _Give me your pain_ … Spock urged softly… _Let me take it from you_ …

Kirk resisted a little… _I don’t want it to hurt you, Spock_ …

… _Jim, I hurt whenever you are in pain_ … _Allow me to absorb it and heal us both_ …

Slowly, haltingly, Kirk lowered his shields , then felt Spock's warmth ease in. The pain of his bruises and wrenched muscles diminished almost immediately; the fingers of his bondmate caressed and soothed. In this dark dream-forest, Kirk lay back and surrendered to those healing hands. Cool drizzle spattered over both of them. Kirk looked up at the thick mass of tall black trees surrounding them, smelled evergreen aroma and rain scent.

Spock's touch slid down over his shoulders, his arms, down to his manacle-scarred wrists. Kirk felt small tremors claim Spock's body, felt his own pain recede. The hands slid back up to his shoulders, then down his robe-clad torso, easing strained muscles, bruised ribs along the way, until finally coming to rest on his hips.

Involuntarily Kirk jerked a little, but the hands of his bondmate presumed no further. Warm palms lay on his pelvic crests, fingers spread out over the sides of his hips. They did not touch his genitals or his buttocks, but held there, pressing through the thin rain-dampened material. Yet even without touching, skillfully they attenuated the deep pain of the rape, the throbbing ache in his testicles, the fiery sting of his buttocks, the phantom heaviness in his rectum. Almost despite himself, Kirk’s eyes stung with gathering moisture as the memories surged through his opened mind.

… _Jim, I am here_ … Spock's constant support flowed as a calm undercurrent… _I shall now take us closer to the interface_ … _do you wish to continue_?...

… _yes, Spock, do it now, please_ …

The meld shifted as Spock settled in to work, deepened from the plane of physical healing to the more complex emotional and psychical levels.

Sensations and feelings and memories layered on top of each other; Spock's quarters where their bodies actually lay, the dark encompassing dream-forest where their minds rested now, memories of their original bonding ceremony at the temple on Vulcan, glimpses of their life together, thoughts and recollections ebbing and flowing, swirling about their conjoined consciousnesses.

And then the unscrolling of images focussed in on their experiences during the dimensional interphase ordeal eight months previously: confusion at first as each landing party materialized on the wrong ship; Spock's dismay over losing communication with Kirk; Kirk’s mental pain at the straining of the link; then the other Spock slipping into the damaged link, deliberately forcing himself on a Kirk who did not belong to him; and the alien Kirk in his counterpart’s place forcing coition between himself and a Spock who did not belong to him, all the while taunting and deriding.

And the old feelings of shame and humiliation and outrage surfaced again; Kirk struggled against them, felt them resonate between him and Spock, as Spock attempted to dissipate the negative energy and yet maintain Vulcan calm. And Kirk felt that calm slipping, and tried to offer his own support through the growing intensity… _Spock_ … _we’re in this together_ … _don’t desert me_ …

Responsively Spock's intensity lessened, and Kirk relaxed a little. Already he could feel the sting from the old emotions fading and their bond reweaving its torn threads. The echoic parallel with the counterparts seemed a little vaguer now, more tenuous, the dissonance a little fainter now.

Until suddenly the disturbance flared brilliant again as images from Kirk’s recent abduction blazed through the meld, and near-physical pain impaled them both.

Abruptly Spock stiffened as he absorbed Kirk’s memories of the raw assault: of the other Kirk smiling cruelly down at his shackled victim, leather strap in hand; of the other Spock mounting and penetrating and pouring his Vulcan heat into a helpless human; of that human trembling uncontrollably with anguish beyond toleration, crying out for his own mate.

And now this Spock quivered on the verge of rage, momentarily unable to continue the healing while struggling with his own savage desires to avenge his mate’s violation, experiencing each act of unleashed lust as though it were inflicted upon his own flesh and mind, experiencing his own recollections of anger and despair when his mate had been abducted from him twice by that other brutal universe. Desire surged up from his loins, up through his chest, seething, desire to confront the usurpers and exact a price in blood and pain, toss the alien Kirk aside with a negligent snap of a fragile human neck, then defeat his own dark twin down to supplicating knees and ravage his mind with a forced meld…

… _Spock_!... Kirk called through the mind-link… _Spock, for godsake, stop it_!... _you’re hurting me_!... _stop it right now_!...

Sharply Spock caught himself, horror stabbing him as he realized in sudden shame that his own emotional storm was surging through the bond, flooding over the very man whom he was attempting to protect and heal. Shame like glacial ice instantly quenched the blood-fire, settled cold and hard in the pit of his stomach… _Forgive me, t'hy'la, I beg your forgiveness_ …

… _I forgive you_ … Kirk insisted… _just please don’t lose that Vulcan control of yours while we’re melded like this… I can’t take the power when I’m so open to you_ …

… _Do you wish for me to end the meld_?...

… _No, let’s stay here until we finish what we came here for_ … Now it was Kirk who touched his bondmate with healing hands… _Lie back down again, Spock… we’ll get through this somehow_ …

Compliantly Spock lay back down beside him, heart still heavy with ice… _I am no better than my counterpart_ … _I have allowed my own selfish emotions to abuse you_ …

Kirk stroked Spock's body… _Please_ … he urged emphatically… _let’s just put the whole incident behind us_ … _Please, Spock, I just want to forget about it_ … _I don’t care about revenge_ …

… _Of course, Jim_ … Spock complied without protest… _whatever you wish_ …

… _Remember, you told me not to be disturbed by whatever occurred during the meld_ …

… _It seems I spoke thoughtlessly_ …

… _No, you didn’t_ … _this is hell for both of us_ … _Come on, Spock, get us through this_ …

For an answer, Spock squirmed closer to his mate on the tarpaulin, pressed the fingers of one wet hand against the side of Kirk’s rain-spattered face, as in imitation of the meld in which they were already engaged in in Spock's bed-chamber. Again warm shivery tingles danced about and through Kirk’s body as when Spock had originally relaxed him, only now the wave of warmth expanded through his psyche too. Like a magnetic probe, it centered in on the wounded area; and little by little, the intrusion of disharmonic vibrations scattered and dissolved into nothingness. Kirk felt the healing radiance touch each cell of his body, each energy wave of his mind. He reached out thoughts to Spock so close within him, and the link that bound them did so securely now, without any impurities left to impede the transceivance. The memory of their counterparts still remained in their minds, but no longer affected the integrity of the bond.

Kirk gazed up at the dream-forest about them, at the twilit sky darkening everything to black-on-black, felt the gentle flick of drizzle on his exposed skin. The ambience was so realistic, so much like he remembered their vacation.

Spock's fingers drifted from the meld position to caress wet strokes across Kirk’s cheek, and his own relief and release echoed his mate’s.

… _Spock_ … Kirk’s thought-voice murmured… _do you want to try to make love again_? _I think I can do it now, if you want to_ …

Spock touched rain-wet lips to other waiting lips, licked the moisture…. _You know I will never answer ‘no’ to that question, Jim_ … _Do you wish to do it here, or do you wish to end the meld_?...

… _Let’s do it here_ … _and then, if I can, let’s do it again out of the meld_ …

Obligingly Spock kissed him again, and Kirk knew that the physical touch was more than simply an imaginary dream of this psychic expression. They had made love during melds a number of times in the past, and although the setting might be illusion, the actions of their bodies was very real. Kirk reciprocated the kiss, and his hands came up to take Spock's damp head, fingers slid into wet black silk. He could feel a stirring in his loins now, something he hadn't felt in a long time; and when Spock touched him, it was his Spock and not the dark shadow of another.

And then Spock lay down, flat on his back, undid the fastenings of his robe, offered himself submissively to his partner… _Jim, I am yours_ … _do whatever you wish with me_ …

Kirk leaned over him, looked down at the vague white form of his friend in the darkness, and fully allowed Spock's offering to affect him. An eternity of two-and-a-half weeks – an eternity of nine-months – since he had felt like a man, since he had been able to act like a man. At the hands of the other Spock, all he had known was subjection, bitter acquiescence.

Carefully, almost worshipfully, he parted the edges of Spock's robe, touched his mate’s body there in the darkness. Rain-slick skin slipped beneath his fingers as he sculpted the familiar hollows and swellings of tender flesh. Touch slid down slender waist, flat belly, thin hips, down to wet mass of pubic hair and partially wet organ.

A sharp intake of breath hissed between Spock's teeth, then exhaled as a moan of pleasure. Kirk smiled now, as their shared love began to ease the long months of tension. Through the link they experienced each other’s sensations. The pleasure needled straight to Kirk’s loins, pulsing blood into his penis and testicles. Spock reached up to open Kirk’s robe, then slid both hands in to fondle human genitals. Sensation surged in Kirk’s nerves as those strong Vulcan hands hefted and manipulated his scrotal sac, slowly, firmly milked his thickening probe; and he surge to full erection. Empathetically Spock's own tender parts swelled to total hardness as well, harder, heavier than Kirk’s, as was natural Vulcan-normal; but instead of taking advantage with his natural dominance, Spock remained submissively on his back, drew up his legs and spread them for his partner’s convenience.

The gesture nearly overwhelmed the last of Kirk’s control, and responsively his organ leaked warm lubricating fluid over Spock's gently caressing hand.

… _Spock_ … Kirk murmured in happy appreciation… _oh god, Spock, I want you_ …

… _Then take me, t'hy'la_ … _seal our renewed bond_ … _unify our bodies even as our minds and souls are joined_ …

… _god, Spock_ … Kirk echoed himself, kneeling before his lover, resting hands on Spock's bony knees. Heat rushed through him, sexual heat and sexual love; and that in itself pleased Kirk – that his own sexual responsiveness still functioned despite all he had been through during the nightmare.

And then he could wait no longer.

Taking his pulsing organ from Spock's hand, and urging Spock's knees back to position the Vulcan’s perineal area, Kirk thrust against the moist anus until it gave way and opened up, and the leaking wet head of Kirk’s penis entered.

… _ohh, Spock_ … a groan gasped from Kirk’s throat, as he lost muscle tone and slumped forward on top of Spock's lax body. Desirously they kissed, tasted rain-water on each other’s lips and face. Kirk’s hips began to rock, working their copulating parts deeper and deeper, slick with water and pre-semen. Spock groaned in the mutual sensation. Wonderful feelings spidered all through their bodies and minds, fully experienced, fully shared. Sensually Spock's anal muscles squeezed and caressed all along Kirk’s shaft as the hard flesh rubbed back and forth, back and forth; the equally-desirous Vulcan organ weeping continuously between their sliding bellies. The tempo increased, slowly at first, then quickly, quickly, to a near-frenzy of passion…

Until exquisite mutual orgasm exploded through both of them, and Kirk’s organ pulsated warm creamy seed into Spock's rectum, and Vulcan fluid spurted convulsively, while their bodies squirmed together in a climax of ecstasy and long-needed release.

Gradually ecstasy faded with a last few spasms and quivers; and the two men sprawled limply in breathless after-glow, lungs heaving, limbs trembling. In the haze between psychic imagery and reality, Kirk could smell the cool crispness of night-rain and evergreens and the warm intermingling of human and Vulcan sexual aromas; and he could feel the thin wet robe clinging to his back, his buttocks, his thighs; and he could hear the ethereal harmony of temple bells and lyre. And he let himself drift in that trance-like state into welcome sleep, all the while holding his life-mate close to his body and his soul. And Spock clung to him just as tightly.

Kirk awoke still lying on top of Spock, back in the Vulcan’s bed-chamber. Memories of the dream-forest seem so real though, that he had to touch Spock's skin to assure himself it was not actually rain-wet. He smiled to himself: the Vulcan’s skin was indeed dry; however, their clothing was damp-stained with semen. During the meld, they had managed to push aside enough material to complete the intercourse, but neither had gotten completely undressed. But it didn’t matter. The sticky dampness was welcome evidence of their mutually cured impotence.

“Spock,” Kirk murmured against a sweat-tacky neck, making no effort to rise and remove the soiled garments. “Thank you.”

Fondly Spock stroked his partner’s back. “Thank _you_ , Jim. I believe we have succeeded in severing the interface. I no longer feel our counterparts within.”

“Neither do I.” A little stiffly Kirk rolled off to lie beside his bed-mate. “And I hope that’s the last we ever have to deal with them. Just before he let me go, that other Spock promised he would destroy the transfer process data so that his captain could never abduct me again. I hope he really meant it.”

Spock continued to touch gently., “I do not think we need to fear that possibility any longer. I would assume that his captain’s acute jealousy was caused by his subconscious sense of you in the link. Now that we have broken the entanglement, they should be free of us as well.”

Kirk frowned. “Even if the other Kirk didn’t realize what was going on, Spock should have. Why didn’t he try to untangle the links a long time ago? He could have save us all a lot of grief.”

“Perhaps he did not understand. Or perhaps he and his captain are not able to conjoin as deeply as we do. Or perhaps he deliberately chose not to,” – a slight chill stiffened this Spock here and now – “because he wanted to maintain the link with both of you.”

The chill filtered through their light mental connection. Kirk pressed closer as though to dispel it physically with his own body heat. “Spock,” he urged quietly, “don’t you be jealous any longer either. It’s over now. Please… let it die.”

And warmth answered warmth. “Of course. You are correct, Jim.”

“Spock…” Kirk smiled again, “now that we’re out of the meld, let’s make love again… but this time, I suggest we take our clothes off!”

“That would indeed be more expedient,” Spock agreed, pulling off his shirt and trousers and shorts the rest of the way, before returning to his submissive position on his back with his knees spread.

Kirk dropped his clothing on the floor, then lay down on his partner again, forearms on either side of Spock's head. “Don’t you want to be on top this time?” he offered.

Spock's fingers drifted down the hollow of Kirk’s spine to his tailbone, caressed around the beginning of gluteal cleavage. “You require it more than I right now,” he demurred. “Take whatever you wish.”

“Spock…”

“Mm?”

“I love you.” Kirk rested atop the taller man. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m bonded with, and not that other Spock.”

Spock's arms wrapped about him, squeezed the human body close to his own. “I too feel love for you, Jim. I would have no other for my mate. Our separations were unbearable.”

Gently, playfully, Kirk rocked his loins against Vulcan genitals. “Then let’s get started. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

“Indeed,” was all the Vulcan had to say, and opened himself to his lover.

  
* * * * * **FINIS** * * * * *

 

_“My heart, which by a secret harmony_

_Still moves with thine, joined in connection sweet.”_

_– John Milton (1608-1674)_

_“Paradise Lost” X 358-359_


End file.
